A Life Artist at play in the Mystery

You are so Beautiful

I remember sitting on the beach in La Jolla doing the beach-bunny thing while my boyfriend surfed the waves with his friends. I was in high school at the time. I was full of my youth, full of myself. I was lookin’ good and I knew it, even if I did get insecure from time to time. Youth rocked (so we thought).

I remember a woman walking by who caught my attention and the words I said to myself:

I hope I’m like her when I get older.

She was probably in her 50s or 60s. Hard to tell. At 16, everyone over 30 looks old. She was very tan, wrinkly and very round like an apple on two poles. She had a long gray braid down her back and she wore a bright orange one-piece swimsuit. She was walking with no noticeable trace of self-consciousness. She was out there, hiding nothing. She was absolutely beautiful in her ease.

“She wrinkled, but she lovely” (1)

I wanted to be like her when I grew old, to feel free and comfortable in my own skin, happy to walk along the beach in a swimsuit. I wanted to keep my long hair. In those days, I held the assumption that you had to cut your hair short after your 20s, because all the magazines advised us that short hair “lifts the features and gives women a more youthful appearance.”

Grand Canyon 2002 (K Loh)

I remember a moment out of time during one of my many hikes in the Grand Canyon. We’d just spent two nights at Phantom Ranch and were coming up the Bright Angel trail. At one point, nearing the last portion of the hike, we rested, taking in the stunning view of the Coconino sandstone walls rising toward the rim. Standing at their base, feeling very small, I felt their grandeur suck all the air right out of my chest. I was mesmerized, immobilized. And then I heard myself utter:

This is so beautiful! God made this and God made me, so I must be beautiful too!

The tears rolled down my face and I felt the first healing of the wounds of years of self-denigration as I received the truth of Beauty with a capital B. It was an epiphany, a moment of insight. It was one moment to combat the constant bombardment of cultural youth worship.

“You are so beautiful" (2)

I remember standing in line at a drug store looking at the faces of models and celebrities on the magazines filled with make-up tips and the latest diet craze. I’d just come back from a mirror-free week of camping in Baja. I was still in travel-daze, that feeling of having been to another planet and back. I remember wondering, “what is this all about?” I also remember that a week later, it was all too familiar again.

I remember hearing a woman in the gym locker room say to her friend that, although she had smile-lines around her eyes, she felt lucky that she didn’t have that sagging jaw line that other women get. I remember the first time, 10 years later, that I looked in a mirror and realized I was one of those less fortunate ones. I remember when the first age spot showed up right near my left eye. I can’t fathom how many times I’ve used my fingers to pull my face taught in an attempt to see what I might look like without all those wrinkles and sags. I walk around feeling 25 and then catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wonder “Aak! Who’s that?”

“...man you're old
Getting old
Old
Getting old.” (3)

I say that I want to age gracefully. I used to think that meant aging slowly and remaining youthful in my appearance. You know, the kind where people are amazed to find out how old you really are because they think you are 10 years younger.

Now, I hold aging gracefully as being filled with grace.

Something has washed over me in recent days. Something about surrender. Something that snake is teaching me. (The second striped racer crossed my path this week) Snake is about transmuting poison. I want to transmute the poison of comparing myself with air-brushed women in media or women half my age into the golden grace of self-acceptance; loving myself exactly as I am: curvy, sagging, with cellulite, healthy, strong and wrinkly, and ok, with a lot of blond highlights.

“Will you take me as I am, will you? Will you take me as I am” (4)

I am beginning to know my Beauty:

The Beauty we all are and can’t help but be

The Beauty that can’t be bought by dialing a phone number scrolling across the bottom of the screen during an infomercial.

The Beauty of our stories of triumph and grief.

The Beauty of our scarred, courageous hearts and wild, winged souls.

The Beauty of being completely and wholly ourselves, loving and nurturing ourselves.

OK people…listen up!

No more holding ourselves as problems in search of the next solution.

No more berating and shaming.

Stop it!

Everything is our mirror; the soaring redwoods, the majestic mountains, the silvery moon, the deep brown earth, the billowy clouds. I want to be that kind of Beautiful. I want to stand tall, know my majesty, light up the darkest of nights, be a solid place to land, and dance across the sky on a windy day.

I want to hear myself say to me, “You are Beautiful” and receive the gift and grace of that in every cell of my being.

Something tells me I don’t need botox to do that and I think my thighs can walk the path of Beauty without liposuction.

Who will walk this path with me?

Suggestions for remembering your Beauty:

Find a tree, sit beneath it and listen. It will tell you of your Beauty.

When you look in the mirror, let your heart be your eyes.

Treat yourself as you would the most beautiful of orchids; nurture yourself completely.

Listen to your self-talk. Track it for a full day and then a full week. Write down the most common things you say to yourself that are unkind or mean. Change the way you speak to yourself. Give yourself the respect you deserve.

12 Responses

Wow, Kathy! You ARE beautiful! And this post is beautiful! Thank you for proclaiming the truth about Beauty and encouraging us all to accept and embrace the Beauty we have within us. This message needs to be spread far and wide!

Kathy, lovely post. Once again, we are thinking complementary stories. In response to a very bad day, I was meditating yesterday and the thought occurred that I am happiest when I am in love, and that I end my intention writing each day with the phrase “I am in love with my life, myself and God!” I realized that I am happy when in love because I feel cherished, and the time has come in my life when I am ready to cherish myself. I listened to Joe sing “You are so beautiful” with his battle-scarred voice and, rather than imagining someone singing it to me, imagined singing it to myself. It’s a fine feeling. Thank you.

Sally, my resonant friend, what a lovely way to put it, being “in love” and finding yourself as the one you love. Yes, listening to the song as if singing it to yourself is exactly the way I listened to it too. We are on the same wave length…you inspire me!

Great post – so important. I wish the Beauty exercise was part of the school curriculam – so that children, especially girls, grew up with the message that listning to your inner Beauty and knowing and being at ease with it was part of life, a natural and flowing way of being. Rather than – sadly – being something we are conditioned out of at a young age.

This is BEAUTIFUL and for me, so timely. On Saturday I am going off on a cruise and have been berating myself because my 49 year old body does not look like the 22 year old, air brushed photograph of the latest model on the cover of “Elle”!!! I was actually asked by someone if my body was “cruise ready”. At the time I shrugged it off and yet I know how much that simple question bugged the heck out of me. So thank you for this. My answer can now be yes, my body is cruise ready. It’s tired and needs a rest, it’s needing some Caribbean blue waters and hot sunshine, it’s ready for dancing under stars and laying on a lounger all day as the service comes and I chat lazily with my girlfriends. Yes, it is such a beautiful body to be ready to help me enjoy 7 days of relaxation. Yes, I have the sagging jaw line, who knew it would come the this to me??? I guess my jaw sags in response to the many truths it holds that I still must speak, I see from your words, you suffer this same magnificent affliction. Keep it coming and thanks, you most beautiful ray of sunshine!!!!

My beautiful truth-speaking friend Tracy: your words bring tears to my eyes. What an incredible perspective of what the lines and sags and bags of our faces speak of our character. Now why would we want to hide that? Yes, I’ve laughed like crazy and smiled most days of my life. Yes, I’ve cried my eyes out for months at a time, feeling grief and pain of loss. Yes, I’ve raised my eyebrows numerous times in wonder and surprise. Yes, I’ve frowned in the glaring sun and frowned with bewilderment over and over again. Yes, I’ve dared to speak the truth. My face is a roadmap of well-traveled territory; grooves of joy, mountains of pain, eroded cliffs from the washing away of illusions and I’m only halfway (if even that) home. Thank you dear one!

Thanks Ana – I’m pleased to know my impact is positive. The truth is something that seems to grow clearer over time. It’s exciting
at each turn. I’m happy to share the roller coaster ride and learning with others.